


Only One Night

by RosalindInPants



Series: Intimate Lessons [1]
Category: The Great Library Series - Rachel Caine
Genre: AU - sin, Angst, Crying, F/M, First Time, Handcuffs, Hurt/Comfort, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, Sub Morgan, Unhealthy Power Dynamics, Vaginal Sex, Wolfe and Santi have an open relationship, bi Wolfe, dom Wolfe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-12
Updated: 2020-03-12
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:35:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23040301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RosalindInPants/pseuds/RosalindInPants
Summary: Morgan is being taken to the Iron Tower, and there is nothing anyone can do to stop it. Before they reach Alexandria, she wants one favor from Wolfe: for her first time to be with someone experienced who cares, not with an assigned mate. She wants Wolfe, and how can he refuse?(Morgan is 16, which seems to count as an adult in this setting, but may be underage depending on where you live. Morgan is also Wolfe's student and prisoner. The power dynamics are fucked up. Read at your own risk.)
Relationships: Christopher Wolfe/Morgan Hault
Series: Intimate Lessons [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1655851
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	Only One Night

"You asked for me?"

Wolfe climbed into the transport, repressing a shudder when the door closed and locked behind him. The vehicle was only just tall enough to allow him to stand - Nic had to duck his head in these things - and though it was wide enough that he couldn't have reached both sides with his arms outstretched, he could feel the walls closing in on him. The high, narrow windows, all barred, let in little of the light from the camp. A glow sat on one bench, its pale light failing to keep the shadows from the corners.

Benches lined the sides of the vehicle, seats for soldiers en route to a mission. A transport this size could carry a whole squad, plus their gear, with room to cram in an unlucky Scholar if that proved necessary, and it seemed oddly empty with only a single girl seated on one bench atop a nest of blankets. It looked like the cell it was, cold and harsh, the glow and the blankets doing little to soften it.

"Thank you for coming," Morgan said. She patted the blanket-covered bench beside her with both hands. An awkward gesture, but unavoidable with the irons fastened around her wrists. "Please, sit down, sir."

He would have opted for the opposite bench himself, but took the seat she indicated. She was, he supposed, trying to be the best host she could be under the circumstances, offering her guest as comfortable of a seat as she could. That was something he could appreciate. He couldn't think of quite how to say so; he couldn't think of anything to say at all. "What can I do for you?" he asked, just to fill the awkward silence.

Morgan looked down at her bound hands. "We must be nearing Alexandria by now." The resignation in her voice hurt to hear. This wasn't the false contrition she'd spoken with when he caught her after her escape attempts in England, but the real thing. She knew there was no escape this time.

"Yes," he said. "Another day's travel, at most. When we arrive, you will go directly to the Iron Tower." No sense in sugarcoating the truth. False comfort would do her no good.

"You know what will happen to me there, don't you?" She looked up at him with watery eyes. This close, he could see that she'd been crying, the puffiness and discoloration around her eyes unmistakable, even cast in the green light of the glow. "They're going to breed me."

"I know." That was all he could say. He couldn't repeat the Library's lies about the necessity of it, not when his very existence proved the whole system worthless.

"I don't want it to be like that." A tear rolled down her cheek, and she reached for his hand.

Caught by surprise, he let her take it, let her wrap her smaller fingers around his larger ones, both her hands clasping around his. The strangeness of it prickled his skin, but he didn't pull away. Chivalry demanded a certain consideration of a woman in tears. "I know," he said. He wasn't sure what to say, what she wanted from him. All the guilt she could heap on him wouldn't be enough to make him set her free. They would do far worse things to Nic if Morgan escaped.

Her gaze held his, with something in it he couldn't read. "I want my first time, at least, to be different," she said. "I want to be with someone who cares. There's time for that still, isn't there?"

 _Oh._ That was it. That made sense. He would have wanted the same, if he and Nic were to be parted. "You want me to bring Brightwell to you, then," he said, his mind racing through that scenario, looking for the trick in it. If anyone could get Morgan out of this, it would be Jess Brightwell, and Morgan had to be aware of that. Was that her true motive? It was all too possible. She had been getting steadily better at deception since her arrival in Alexandria. There would have to be security measures taken.

But Morgan shook her head. "No. Not Jess. I couldn't stand for it to be Jess."

That, too, Wolfe could understand. The boy had, after all, betrayed her, and even without that, the intensity of emotion might complicate things. The wound would be deeper if she lost him after consummating their relationship.

She leaned in closer, blinking away her tears in a flutter of eyelashes. "Besides, I think I'd like it to be someone with more experience."

Well, that narrowed the field considerably, Wolfe thought. Santiago, perhaps, might serve her needs. Besotted as the boy seemed to be with Seif, Wolfe knew the young Spaniard had spent time in the brothels by the docks. Or maybe one of the younger soldiers. Nic would know which of them would be gentle enough in disposition to give her the care she deserved.

But before he could suggest those options, Morgan leaned in closer still, until their faces almost touched. "I want it to be you, Scholar Wolfe."

Before those words even had time to sink in, she kissed him. It wasn't bad, as kisses went, more hunger than skill, but her lips were full and her mouth was soft, and that was enough to kindle a spark of desire in his groin. Their bodies knew what they wanted, without a doubt.

That didn't make it right to take advantage. He drew back, putting his free hand on her shoulder to maintain the distance between them. "Morgan," he said, trying to strike the balance between firm and kind. "Postulant Hault. It would not be appropriate-"

"No," she said, cutting him off. "I'm not your Postulant anymore." She pulled her hands back from him, and brought them up to the laces at the bodice of her dress. A single pull, and the dress fell open, revealing the round swell of Morgan's bosom.

Round and full and milky white, with nipples hardening in the chill. Breasts were not one of the parts of the human anatomy that Wolfe found most compelling, but he had to admit that Morgan had a lovely set of them. The whole of her was lovely, in fact. The curves of her body, the loose curls of her brown hair tumbling over her shoulders... She was just the type he caught Nic admiring, when Nic's eye strayed toward women. The kind Wolfe would seek out in the dockside bars and bring home to Nic as a treat for them both, in better times.

"You do like women, then," she said, a sly smile creeping over her face as she looked directly at the growing bulge in his trousers. "I wasn't sure, considering you and Captain Santi, but Rijuta said..."

"Rijuta talks too much," Wolfe said. He was going to have words with Nic later about assigning the company gossip as Morgan's guard. Or maybe just haul Rijuta back to the tent he shared with Nic and give her something better to do with that mouth of hers. That wouldn't be a bad way to blow off the tension building in him.

"And yet, you don't deny it." Morgan looked back up to meet Wolfe's eyes, her expression turning more serious. "We are both free to choose this. Please, let me make this choice, while I still can."

Gently, Wolfe took Morgan's hands, lifting them so that the light of the glow caught on the manacles that bound them. "You would argue that you are choosing freely? I put you in chains." His eyes narrowed as a new suspicion arose from the back of his mind. "I can't unlock them for this. I don't have the key." Nic held the key; Wolfe knew better than to trust himself with it.

"I'm not trying to seduce my way to freedom, if that's what you're thinking," she said with a rueful laugh. She looked down at the cuffs, a blush bright enough to see even in the glow's green light spreading across her face. "I wasn't even going to ask you to take the cuffs off. They... ah... they don't bother me. For this."

By which she meant that they aroused her. By all the gods, what fun he and Nic could have had with her, had things been different. By all the gods, what fun she deserved to have, the poor girl. The Iron Tower was no place for someone with lusts so easily twisted by unscrupulous lovers. That, more than anything, was what made up his mind. He was taking so much from her. The least he could do was give her this one night, one chance to indulge all her desires.

Letting go of her hands, he hooked a finger through the chain that linked the cuffs and pulled her in by it, his other hand cupping her flushed cheek. "You like this, do you?"

At that, she turned even redder, looking away from him. Her breaths came shallow and quick, like the flutter of a bird's wings.

With a light touch, he guided her face up until their eyes met. "There is no shame in what you want," he said. "But if there were, it would be mine, too."

He saw the moment understanding came, the widening of her eyes and the parting of her lips. She fumbled for words. "But, if you... Do you...?"

"I find pleasure in many things," he said, tracing the curve of her cheek with his fingertips. "Surrender is but one of them. Trust me when I say that I would find great pleasure in taking the opposite role for you, if that is what you wish."

"It is," she breathed, and she kissed him, her mouth hot with need.

This time, he let himself fall into the temptation of it. Her drew her in by the chain, and she melted into him, all soft and yielding. How badly had she needed this, he wondered. How long had she waited for the chance to relax and entrust herself to another's care? For months, at least, she'd kept herself so tightly controlled, her secrets all hidden, her trust withheld even from those she cared for. It was no way to live; he knew that so terribly well. He would have gone mad this past year if not for the release Nic gave him, and she'd done it all alone.

He had to admit that he found the strength that took highly arousing. Tight as his trousers were, his cock would have to wait its turn. It had one duty, and he would save it for that. Morgan's needs took priority.

The bench of the transport made an awkward and narrow bed, but it was all they had, so he laid her back on it, lips still locked on hers while he straddled her with one foot on the floor. Very lightly, he trailed a hand down the pale skin of her throat while his other hand brought her arms up. Breaking the kiss, he pulled her arms over her head, held by the chain. Light pressure there and at the base of her throat, just enough to test her needs, her boundaries.

Pinned and stretched out and vulnerable, she looked up at him, wide-eyed with fearful arousal that sent a jolt of need through his loins. Hers, too, by the squirm of her hips and her needy whine.

If he asked, he suspected she would give him anything he wanted, and some dark part of his mind reveled in that, whispering to him of all the filthy things he could make her do. Ignoring it, he said, "These are not ideal circumstances for this sort of play, but I want you to know that in this, I claim no power over you beyond that which you relinquish willingly. At your word, this all stops." He traced her collarbones, her shoulders, soothing touches to calm the racing pulse he'd felt in her throat. He waited until she nodded her understanding before he continued, "Whatever happens after tonight, remember that. No matter where you are, who you are with, what you desire, no one should ever take more than you are willing to give."

Left unspoken was the understanding that for one particular act, she would have no choice. But if he could give her the strength and understanding to refuse any other demands placed on her, well, that was better than nothing.

He put a gentle kiss on her cheek and let his hand wander down toward her breasts. "Now, what would you like me to do, I wonder?"

Her chest lifted to meet his touch, pressing a breast into his waiting palm. She let out a pleased sigh when he squeezed, changing to a moan as his grip tightened. He gave her a good, firm grope before letting go, pinning her to the bench with two fingers on her breastbone when she tried to shove her breast back into his hand. Usually, he wouldn't wait so long for an answer, but it was her first time, and she did have very nice breasts. Having one in his hand made him eager to get her skirt out of the way and see if she had an ass to match.

"Such an impatient girl," he chided. "But you'll get no more until you answer my question. What would you like me to do?"

"Touch me," she groaned. "Please, sir."

So she had some manners, if not any grasp of the concept of precision. If she'd been a pretty young assistant tempted to his bed, he would have tied her down and spent a whole evening demonstrating the importance of clear wording. He would have made her name every part of her body she wanted touched and specify the ways in which she wanted those parts touched, and he would have savored both the struggle and the reward that followed. But there was no time.

"Be still," he said, lifting his fingers from the middle of her chest to spiral lightly up the swell of her breast. Only her eyes moved, following his finger's progress toward her nipple. "You should be careful what you ask for. There are many ways I might touch you, and you wouldn't enjoy all of them. But I don't think you even really know what you want, do you? You've had so little time to experiment in this area." Reaching the peak, he circled her nipple, keeping his fingertip just beyond the dark circle of the areola.

To his surprise, her eyes flicked up to meet his, and she said, "There... my nipple. I want you to touch there. Pinch it." Her face was red, but her voice was steadier than he would have expected.

"Such a good girl," he murmured as he gave her exactly what she'd asked for. He started gently, tightening his fingers until she moaned. Bending down until his mouth almost touched her other nipple, he asked, "Shall we see what else you like here?"

"Please... yes... please," she panted.

She gasped at the first flick of his tongue over her nipple, the sharp intake of breath thrusting her chest upward, pushing her nipple into his mouth. Feeling generous, he accepted it, swirling his tongue around it as he sucked and listened to her whimpers. Her hands strained against the chain that he held them by, and her hips ground into his, technically a violation of his order to be still, but he let her have it. This night was hers, after all. He would let her enjoy it. This might be the only time she got to enjoy it.

The thought of that cut deep, and he was glad that she could not see his face, bent as he was over her chest. He couldn't think of that, not now. There could only be the moment, and the desires that drove them both. The nipple in his mouth needed biting, so he gave it a careful nip.

Hips bucking beneath him, she cried out in delight.

They were more alike than he would have thought, he and this Obscurist girl. She liked her pain the way he did, sharp and precise. He bit again, a little harder, applying his nails to her other nipple at the same time. Her thrashing drove her groin hard against his, the pleasure of it almost painful to his constrained erection, and he lifted his head, simultaneously releasing her other nipple from his pinching fingers. She whined while he pressed his lips to her bitten nipple for a gentle kiss, one hand creeping downward, the other still firm on the chain. "We should see where else you might like to be touched, don't you think?" he asked with a devious grin.

"Yes, please, sir," she panted. She lay very still while he shifted to the side to sit with the narrowest sliver of the bench beneath him, reaching for her skirt.

Fortunate that in their grinding, her skirt had ended up bunched around her thighs, where he could reach it without letting go of her cuffs. She needed to have that restraint to struggle against, would need it even more when he got his other hand where he wanted it. He kept his eyes on her face while he slowly pulled the skirt up, watching her anticipation. So beautiful, the way her lips opened in a gasp when the cool air touched her skin. He slid his hand over her thigh, over her hip, reaching for her underwear.

Finding nothing. A look down confirmed it: she was utterly bare beneath her skirt, covered only by a patch of curly brown hair that disappeared between thighs held tightly shut. So bold, and yet, so shy. Intriguing.

"Do you always go bare beneath your skirts? Or was this just for me?" he asked, reaching around to feel her ass. Every bit as round and soft as he'd hoped, like a pillow in his hand. He satisfied his curiosity with a good grope before moving on to explore her thighs.

"For you," she said. She bit her lip, but kept her thighs closed, even as he moved his hand toward the crease between them.

"Hmm." He stroked her thighs in gentle encouragement. They were pleasantly soft, soft enough that the padding nearly concealed the muscle. She was no athlete like Nic, but there was more strength in her than she let on. "Does that mean you want to be touched here?" He let his fingers inch toward the place where her thighs met.

"Y-yes." Her voice wavered. "Yes, sir."

He leaned in to kiss her ear and whisper, "If you want to be touched, you'll have to let me in."

Clear as she'd been about what she wanted, it took her a moment to relax. He kept his face by hers, kissing her cheeks and neck while he stroked her hips and thighs, putting her at ease. Slowly, the tension in her thighs eased, and he could slip a hand between them. He kept his hand on her thigh, rubbing the inside of it, stopping just short of the folds of her labia.

After a few such strokes, she let out a frustrated cry and swung one leg across his lap, opening herself entirely to him. Her legs trembled, and her face blushed dark as she begged, "Touch me, now, please." By the sound of her voice, she'd marshaled all her courage just to open her legs, and the anticipation was more than she could bear.

He didn't ask where she wanted to be touched. That would be unnecessarily cruel. He ran two fingers between the velvety skin of her inner lips, gathering the moisture there. However nervous she might be, her body signaled its readiness for him. Her labia parted easily, and his fingers came away coated in her slippery fluid. Fortunate that she produced her own lubrication; he hadn't brought any, not having anticipated what she would ask of him.

At that, he remembered what else he didn't have with him, and froze, fingers still between her lips. Nothing to do but state the problem directly. "I don't have a condom. Nor do you, I assume. I won't be able to-"

She cut him off with a loud groan, pushing herself upward into his hand. "I don't care."

He put his hand back into motion, and she sank back onto the bench with a satisfied moan. "There are, of course, many things we can do that don't carry the same risks as-"

"I don't care," she interrupted, more forceful. "What does it matter, where I'm going?"

That was the last thing he wanted her to think about. "Of course," he whispered, giving her a gentle kiss in apology. "The choice is yours."

He had to concede that she had a fair point. There was even, when he thought about it, a certain bitter irony to the idea of sending her to the Iron Tower pregnant with his child. What a laugh he could have at his mother's expense.

Whining, she rubbed herself against him, her hands tugging at the cuffs. "Such an impatient thing you are," he murmured, and she groaned her agreement. He let her squirm while his fingers explored.

He would hardly have expected it when he first grew into his attractions, given the sorts of bodies he was most commonly drawn to, but he found parts like hers every bit as interesting as those like his own. The self-lubrication alone was a feature worthy of appreciation, and he enjoyed rubbing slippery fingers over the petals of her labia, finding the right places and motions to make her wriggle and moan. She had a remarkably sensitive clitoris, when he pulled back the hood. Even the light press of his thumb against the exposed skin was enough to make her cry out and jerk away, overwhelmed by the intensity of it.

There was nothing quite like this feeling of power, knowing he had her entirely under his control. If they'd had more time, he would have drawn it out more. He might have spent the whole night just demonstrating the pleasures a hand could give. But they didn't have that kind of time, and he knew what she wanted. Keeping his thumb on her hooded clit, he pressed a single finger into her opening. She went still at that, breath held, muscles clenching to grip his finger. Still afraid of this, for all that she was determined to have it.

He waited, knowing it would hurt, and not in a way she would like, to force his way further. "Easy," he whispered, rubbing gentle circles with his thumb. "I'm not going to hurt you. Relax for me, and I'll make you feel good. You want me inside you, don't you?"

"Yes." Her voice came out as a whine that made his cock ache to be inside her already. With the release of her breath, her muscles loosened, just a little, just enough for him to slide his finger in a little more.

Slow and steady, he pressed inward, until he had his whole finger in. She was tight, but not so much that he couldn't curl his finger, seeking the sensitive spot within. He wasn't as good at finding this one as he was the prostate, and it took him a few tries before she shuddered and moaned. A few strokes there, and he had her ready for a second finger.

With the second finger in, he could begin to stretch her, a process similar enough between this opening and the one he used with Nic that he could let his fingers work on their own while he nuzzled and kissed her neck, wordlessly encouraging her to relax. It was growing more difficult to hold onto her hands, his arm tiring as she pulled harder, taking out her nervous energy on the cuffs. The lower half of her body struggled too, all but fucking herself on his fingers while she whined, begging half-coherently.

"Shh, almost there," he murmured, sliding a third finger in. This one, she accepted more easily, straight in without pause. "A little more now... there. That's a good girl. All nice and open for me. Are you ready for my cock?"

"Yes." The word turned to a groan when he withdrew his hand. "Please, sir."

If she kept begging like that, he wasn't going to last long once he got inside her. That was just as well; he was quite used to having partners who couldn't reach orgasm from penetration alone. He fully expected to finish her with his hands and mouth once he'd fucked her.

"Be still, then," he said, taking the opportunity to switch the hand on her chain. As quickly as he could, he got his trousers undone and positioned himself between her legs. Narrow as the bench was, she had little choice but to wrap her legs around him. He fought the urge to thrust straight in, instead holding his cock with just the tip to her opening. "We're going to take this slow," he said. "Are you ready?"

"Please."

That wasn't a proper answer. He let her have it. He pushed forward into the slick heat of her until he had just the head in, nearly crying out as her muscles clenched around him. She shivered, no, she trembled, her whole body shaking. The pull of her hands on the chain was different. Frantic. Her eyes squeezed shut, and her legs tightened their grip. Her entrance felt like it hadn't been prepared at all, so tight it would hurt them both to push further inward. 

She was terrified, and Wolfe ached with understanding. He remembered the sickening mix of relief and terror he had felt the first time he asked Nic to cuff him after his release. He remembered how long it had taken him to let Nic fuck him again, and how hard it had been to let Nic in, even then.

His cock throbbed, but he ignored it while he held her through the tremors, whispering soothing words. He brought her cuffed hands down to clasp over her chest, he kissed her wild curls, and he waited, because that was all he could do. That was what Nic had done for him: held him until the fear passed. She needed to feel safe, and only patience would give her that.

"Breathe, Morgan. Nice and deep. Don't think about anything else, just breathe." He spoke softly, right into her ear, the same as Nic had done for him. Only when her breathing calmed and he knew she was really listening did he progress to asking, "Do you still want this? We don't have to go on, if you've changed your mind. It's all right to change your mind."

Her face scrunched up. "No, I..." A grunt of frustration. Another breath. A tear rolled down from the corner of her eye. "I want to. Just do it. Fuck me. I don't care if it hurts."

"I do," he said, silencing the baser instincts that told him to take her at her word and force his way in. "I care very much. I will give you pain, if that is your desire, but I will not hurt you carelessly." He was already hurting her too much.

More tears welled up. "What's the difference?" she cried. She wriggled her hips, as if by doing so she might force his cock further into her body. "Fine. I want pain. Fuck me."

She thought he was toying with her, he realized, his heart aching. This was the consequence of moving too fast, trying to fit too much into a single night. He couldn't let that stand. But for all her impatience, there might be a small point of merit to her words. Used correctly, pain might be of some benefit.

He kissed the tears from her eyes. "You misunderstand. Nothing you say will make me force my way into you. The pain that I offer is that which brings pleasure. May I demonstrate the difference?"

There was caution in her "yes," but also curiosity. She wrapped both her cuffed hands around his hand that held the chain.

This would be a delicate task, to be undertaken with care. Done wrong, it would undermine his entire argument. He kissed his way from her cheek to her neck, and there, he nuzzled aside her curls and bit her. The lightest graze of his teeth to begin, followed by gentle suction, a kiss, a cautious bite. All very soft, not even hard enough to mark her English skin. Her responding moan gave clear approval, so he moved down to her shoulder and bit again. Harder, this time, enough to make her yelp.

Along with that delicious little sound came a noticeable loosening of her body. Probably enough to penetrate deeper, but he would rather be sure. "You see?" he asked, licking the mark he'd left on her shoulder. "Not at all the same, is it?"

"Mmm. More?" she asked, tightening her legs around his waist to draw him in once more. The frustration was gone from her voice, replaced with arousal.

"Yes, more," he agreed, and he bit her, just to the side of the mark he'd made on her shoulder. He could give her a whole line of them, if she needed the pain, and let the Iron Tower Medicas throw themselves a good fit at the sight.

With this bite, more of the tension went out of her, and he let his hips press forward, burying a little more of his cock inside her.

Her muscles clenched, just for an instant, and loosened again. "Oh, God. More. Keep going," she panted, adding in a hungry groan, "Please, sir." 

He really was going to have to reward her for those manners. One inch, one bite at a time, he sank himself into her, taking the time to savor the tight wetness on his most sensitive skin and relish the anticipation. She tugged her cuffed hands upward, and taking the hint, he lifted them over her head once more. So she liked that position. Good to know. He understood why when he had himself fully sheathed, his balls resting against the curve of her ass, her breasts rubbing against his chest as he leaned over to capture her mouth in a deep kiss. He'd intended to hold them both still like that and let her enjoy the feeling of being filled for a moment before he added motion, but she thrust her chest up against him in insistent offering.

Yes, when he pushed up enough to get a good look, he could see how well this position put her breasts on display. "You know how beautiful these are, don't you?" he asked, taking one breast in hand to massage it the way she'd liked before. "I think you like showing them off. You like having them touched."

"Yes, please, more." With her begging came a roll of her hips, urging him into motion.

Slowly, he drew back his hips, until only the tip of his cock remained within. Holding himself there, he rolled her nipple between his thumb and forefinger until she groaned and thrust her hips up to meet him, harder and faster than he would have expected. She tipped her head to the side, stretching her neck and shoulder out in a wordless plea for teeth that he was all too glad to answer.

This was her night, so he let her set the pace, a rhythm that soon had him panting as she writhed beneath him, losing herself in the feeling. Pleading words gave way to wilder sounds, grunts and moans in time with his thrusts, insistent whines of protest if he neglected her breasts or neck for too long. She wanted a lot of stimulation, a desire Wolfe could understand very well because he shared that need to be overwhelmed and overcome. When there was enough to feel, there was no room left to think.

He let himself slip into it as well, his world narrowing to their two bodies. Hard chain pulling in one hand. Soft breast in the other. Bite marks on pale skin. Tight muscle gripping his entire length. None of the inner softness he was used to from fucking Nic, but a firm grasp from head to root. And so wet, getting wetter with every inward slide. Her slippery fluids covered him, enough that if he'd wanted to, he probably could have pulled out of this hole and fucked her other one without having to add any lubricant.

He filed that thought away for later. She hadn't asked for that, wasn't prepared. But, oh, what an ass she had.

His balls slapped against that lovely ass, a pleasant feeling, at least until they tightened, his climax nearing. He lifted his head from the shoulder he'd been nibbling to warn her of that.

And saw the tears streaming from her eyes.

Instinctively, he slowed. "Morgan. All right?"

She looked at him, and she smiled. No false reassurance in it, but real joy. "Yes," she breathed. "Yes. Don't stop. Please."

She was beautiful, smiling like that. So painfully beautiful. She was so young, so full of life and lust, and she deserved better than the fate he was sending her to.

And the only damned thing he could do was shove his cock back into her. His eyes burned with tears, and he let them fall. He couldn't have held them back if he tried, any more than he could hold back the growing pressure in his balls.

"Not going to last much longer," he grunted between thrusts. He was so close to the edge, the heat that surrounded his cock lighting a fire along his nerves, spreading quickly.

"Finish inside me," she whispered. "Please."

That whispered plea was all it took. The fire caught, consuming him in a burning wave of a climax.

Too quickly after it passed, he softened. She continued to rock against him, groaning at the loss of his erection until he cut off the complaint with a kiss. Impatient as she was, he took his time with it, offering a thorough demonstration of his tongue's capabilities. When he lifted his mouth from hers, he asked, "Shall I show you what else I can do with my mouth?"

Letting her head fall back onto the bench, she loosened her legs from around his waist. "Please, yes."

He pulled his spent cock from her and slid downward, bringing her cuffed hands along to rest on her stomach. His other hand slipped beneath her to take a handful of round ass cheek. Her legs draped over his shoulders, giving him full access to everything between them. There, before his eyes, was the evidence of their coupling, streaks of white against the red of her entrance. He extended his tongue to lick her clean, lightly at first, and then with more force when she lifted her hips and moaned with need.

Nic would have liked to see this. It was something of a fantasy for Nic, to fuck a girl and make Wolfe lick his seed from her. They'd been too wary of the risk of pregnancy to ever do it. Swallowing the salty and sour mix of his own fluids and Morgan's, Wolfe wondered what Nic's reaction would be to hearing about it. He rather hoped he was earning himself a reward... or a punishment. He would be happy enough with either.

Having already explored with his hands, Wolfe had a good idea of how Morgan would like his tongue applied, once he had his mess cleaned from her. Quick flicks over the inner lips, slow swirls around her entrance, firm nuzzling at her clit. Soon enough, he had to hold her down to keep her from grinding herself into his face hard enough to smother him. Her cuffed hands, held just out of reach of his head, grasped for his hair, and he allowed her to keep the locks she caught between her fingers. He'd never minded having his hair pulled; indeed, the bright pain of it was good motivation.

He brought her to the edge, and let her feel the pleasure of being held there before he nudged back the hood of her clit with the tip of his tongue. She groaned in frustration, squirming, reaching, pulling, but he held her fast while he closed his lips around that pearl of sensitive nerves, and, with the lightest of licks, sent her over into blissful oblivion.

With his limited experience at cunnilingus, he couldn't get an accurate count of how many times he brought her to climax. It was all a chaos of cries and bucking hips. Whatever the number, it wasn't enough. It would never be enough.

She came down hard from the high, shaking and sobbing, and he gathered her into his arms. "It's all right," he murmured while he got her skirt back in place and wrapped one of the blankets around them both. "You did very well. It's normal to have strong feelings like this afterward. Let it out. It's all right." Meaningless reassurances, spoken in English to give her the comfort of hearing her native language. The words came to him clumsily, and he couldn't shake the awkward feeling that he ought to be speaking Italian.

When she'd calmed somewhat, he offered water from a canteen she'd left under the bench, but she drank very little. He rubbed her back and combed his fingers through her tangled curls, pausing to wipe her face with his handkerchief from time to time. Gradually, the flow of tears slowed until it stopped altogether. Her breathing slowed, and her eyes fell shut, only to open again the moment he moved to lay her down.

"Don't go," she mumbled. "Don't leave me alone." There was a note of fear in her voice that he understood all too well.

"I'll stay," he said, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. He knew what it was to be alone in the dark, vulnerable and afraid. He would not leave her like that.

Resting her head on his shoulder, she closed her eyes again. A quick Codex message to Nic so he wouldn't worry, and Wolfe settled in to doze as best he could. There would be no real sleep, not in this cell of a vehicle, but he could nap while Nic drove in the morning. He would owe Nic for that, too, he supposed.

Maybe Rijuta would be amenable to a quick tumble before they set out in the morning. She'd been eyeing Nic since they arrived in France, and Nic always did like it when Wolfe brought home playmates for him. He might make them both very happy with that arrangement.

But that was a matter to be dealt with when the sun came up. While the night remained, he would hold Morgan. It might be her only chance to spend the night in the arms of a caring lover. Once he handed her over to his mother, she might never again find joy and pleasure in her body. The things they'd done would become no more than memories and unpleasant duties, and he couldn't protect her from that. This was the last time he would be able to care for her, and he accepted the weight of that responsibility.

Until dawn, he would hold her close and safe and warm, and when the sun rose, he would slip away. Come morning, they could only hurt each other.


End file.
